


Blessing

by lasciviousWildheart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasciviousWildheart/pseuds/lasciviousWildheart
Summary: A resonant, deep clash buzzing in your ears and arms and blade. Your katana flung sideways into the sky, forcing your arm to sprawl over your shoulder. Your hit had bounced off without leaving a dent. You’d struck into the orb with everything, pink lightning gathering around your forearms and shoulders and sending shocking tingles up and down your spine, giving your arms the power to break more than should strictly be possible. But to this thing, apparently, that meant nothing-- your literally godly level of power was just something to brush off with a few hundred measly sparks and no apparent damage. 
------Me: Tries to write sfw dirkjakeDirk and Jake: cannot stop making sexual references at each otherMe: Shit.
This is pretty much just short some post-canon worldbuilding and a cool idea for a fraymotif I've had lying around for a little while.





	

A resonant, deep clash buzzing in your ears and arms and blade. Your katana flung sideways into the sky, forcing your arm to sprawl over your shoulder. Your hit had bounced off without leaving a dent. You’d struck into the orb with everything, pink lightning gathering around your forearms and shoulders and sending shocking tingles up and down your spine, giving your arms the power to break more than should strictly be possible. But to this thing, apparently, that meant nothing-- your literally godly level of power was just something to brush off with a few hundred measly sparks and no apparent damage. 

You swore and growled under your breath a little. You’d come across a good number of these little caches before, either Skaian or Condenscencial or a mixture of both in nature, and pretty soon modus operandi to gain access to what lay inside was for everyone to get out of the way and watch you cut them a way in. But it seemed that wouldn’t work, this time. 

They were sometimes just entrances to long dungeons of dangers and new bits of skaian insight or technology or outposts of either the Condescendion or the rebellion’s factions, new bits and pieces of your old Bro, Roxy’s Mom, Jake’s Grandma. 

Though not as directly involved, often the family joke book would pop up in some outposts, Jane’s poppop writing in only the first blank page, passing on a new group of prank ideas and setting Crockegbert chaos alight on your poor, helpless community. Pies and snakes in a bottle would fly for miles. In a way, they were becoming a regular part of your family

But this wasn’t a condesce-type cache. Although varied in design, those tended to be branded largely in pink or red, or sometimes hidden entirely. This wasn’t hidden and it wasn’t red, and the dull, passive potency of it’s presence all but screamed skaian origin. Which made it quite the find. 

Skaian caches tended to hold what were essentially instruction manuals and design principle blueprints for something or another. Cryptic collections of clues and ciphers through which you’d already started to understand the fundamental philosophies of the alchemiter, the totem lathe, and the programming principles behind the building deployment GUI for managing architecture. Well. Roxy and Jade had started to understand that last part. Whenever they talked about it it just made your head hurt, but god damnit were you determined to catch up. 

You were mostly focused on keeping pace with Aradia and Sollux, the three of you together trying your best to reverse engineer the coding behind Trollian’s transtemporal chatline garbage. Dave wasn’t too interested, but he made helpful sbahj documentaries to help you keep track of what you’d uncovered. 

Skaia, you were beginning to suspect, was at least not quite as shitty of a guardian as you’d first thought. Apparently that blue glowing fucker had your higher education well in hand past the end of the game, likely hidden all over the entire universe so you’d eventually wander into it through sheer time. The way heart and time intermingled here. The places that space gave way to the void there. The places where light pulses through the blood of lovers in a single room. 

Maybe understanding reality like this--through the lens of the aspects-- just kind of led you to figuring out how it all worked, and it wasn’t intentional? But it felt intentional, and you couldn’t quite put it in words how you were so sure. In either case, it was a hell of a step up from regular college. 

You met eyes with Rose, standing by John, Dave and Karkat. Whatever power your title of Prince of Heart gave you, it wasn’t quite enough to overcome this challenge. Something else was going on. A riddle or a test, some way someone else had to step up. It wasn’t that you felt particularly weaker or emasculated in some ridiculously stupid way. Rose smiled at you, a little bit sweetly, a little bit with sympathy, but a lot with a glint of laughter. Yeah yeah. So you were a little disappointed. Maybe you were a bit of a show off. Well, you had been no humbler when you one scrabble last week, MOM. 

( _You’d felt a lot better about her calling you dad when you realized you could TOTALLY claim ancestral familial connection to her, if you really wanted to. Oooh yeah. She was such an important and profound mother figure to you. She was so important you were the literal embodiment of a devastating argument to the very idea of Freud’s oedipal complex._ )

And so MOM was smiling at you and you fidgeted a little on your feet and so she kind of won that round of the “Make Dirk Squirm” game. But only because you didn’t actually mind much when you forfeited, your shoulders jumping and outright shuddering, because Jake had wrapped his arm around your side. He grinned down at you, sunny and cheerful. Kind of like the Jake you remembered from before the game, back when everything was simpler and lonelier. Except also different, in a good way, because this joy felt comfortable and grounded on him. It didn’t sound like pretending when he said: 

“Hey chap, I think I might have an idea if you wanna give that another crack.” he said, low and friendly but almost sultry. Jake literally couldn’t help it, you’d figured out a couple years in after your started dating again. The dude’s brain was just completely filthy with thoughts about you basically all the time. It had become a regular part of your banter, that push and pull, but around the others you did a good job to mostly keep it down enough to just be kind of annoying to Karkat. 

“You know it. What’s up?” you answered. 

“Well, I suppose we should disperse and look for writing along the shell.” Rose said with her voice raised just high enough for the whole party to hear, lifting up into the sky and taking Kanaya by the hand with her. John all but shot into the air like he belonged there, Roxy following close behind, but they both spun to look down at the rest of the party. Only chance to interrupt. 

“Wait.” You said, loudly enough to turn all eyes towards you. Black cargo pants and tank top, Jake’s grey suit and long bare legs twined between them. His gun-loaded hand resting on your shoulder, you looked quite definitely like you were both ready for shit to go down.

God damnit. You basically could never stop doing movie-worthy poses around this guy. You heard the snap of Dave’s photorealistic camera, built into its shades. More visual fodder for the Sbahj mill. But if ridiculous shit like this was happening, it generally meant Jake was in a good mood, which meant everyone knew things were about to get a whole lot easier. 

 

“Jake wants to try something,” you volunteered. He preferred to let you do a lot of the leaderly talking--it made him nervous, for the most part. Even through your filter, everyone visibly relaxed. Especially Karkat, who you knew had been hoping to get this done fast--he was working like a madman trying to finish some grand artistic project in time for Dave’s birthday. You’d been trying to help. 

Jake was pretty much leader de facto whenever he got one of these ideas in his head. They were usually unpredictable and dangerous and downright daring, but they always worked out, and he’d saved you all enormous headaches and time sinks a good dozen times by now. 

 

“What did you have in mind?” Rose inquired, genuinely curious. The interest made Jake blush--you knew he still found her kind of intimidating. All of your razor wit but without the cushion of your desperate devotion was still something to get used to, at least where big decisions where he could be judged were involved. That she thought so highly of him was gratifying to him. That you knew him so well now that you could tell all that was gratifying to you. 

“Oh, nothing much, it’s pretty simple actually.” Jake said, high and confident and only a little nervous but his arm clenched against yours pretty hard. “I just figured I’d...try and boost Dirk this time, have him give it another shot? Maybe save us a few hours because I actually was hoping to go home and watch a movie…” 

“Hey, that sounds cool! Sure, do whatever. Also, want us to come?” John said, breezy as he floated and danced across the air, limbs dangling easily. Roxy was more still but she rested on her belly diagonally, looking down at Jake in a way that shouldn’t have been impossible. Except, right, you were gods.

“Ha, maybe come by tomorrow, if that’s alright?” Jake counteroffered. “I was kind of hoping to uh, you know. Make a night of it.” he admitted, and immediately you flushed, deeply mortified. You took in John’s eyebrows shooting up, Dave’s poker face tightening with blush and threatening laughter, Karkat’s amused grin splitting open, Roxy’s almost a twin except she looked ready to howl with laughter. Rose’s look. The Rose look. 

“Haha, alright man, have fun!” John said, and the chorus of giggles and hollers made Jake realize what he’d said and blush the blush of true anime embarrassment. It would explode into genuine nervousness soon, though, and you had to let him know no one was laughing AT him quickly. You wrapped your arm around his hips in response, being careful not to touch him with your katana and looked up at him coolly from behind the curtains of your shades. You pressed your lips to his and kissed him, short and sweet and pleased. 

He looked a little calmer when you pulled away. “Sorry, Dirk. I hope that wasn’t too...Uh,” 

You smiled at him and enjoyed the show--the immediate way he was distracted from his worry, the way your kiss could render it distant enough not to warrant panic. “It’s fine,” you promise, and it’s like a spell that quiets the parts of him that can’t help but worry. “You’re good. That was totally acceptable circumstantial humor. Nothing bad or weird about it at all. Just enjoy getting owned like a chump.” you said, and he absorbed your play by play like a sponge, let his smile and comfort grow visibly with every letter. He smiled sheepishly at your friends, chuckling to himself. It made you grin at him, too--you couldn’t quite help yourself. “What movie were you thinking of?” You asked, like it mattered. 

Because to Jake it did. His eyes burned bright immediately, vivid and excited. “Oooh man you’re gonna love this one, I’m sure of it it’s aces. It’s this old medieval war story called Lionheart, it’s got knights and stuff it’s gonna be a blast!” 

You didn’t think about how incredibly hamfisted and patriarchal it was likely going to be. You thought about the moment about fifteen minutes in where Jake would usually let you drape yourself around his knees and lazily lick at his cock so long as your eyes flickered to the screen every so often. How he got literally excited when tense scenes came on. “Yep, sounds fuckin incredible already.” You said, and you genuinely meant it. “So how about we bust this sucker open and head on home, already? You gonna overdrive me with brain ghost dirk again?” 

“Oh, fucking malarkey pudding, Dirk! Of course not!” He said, wounded. “Will you let me live that down already? I’m sorry!” The first time you’d successfully done a fraymotif, Jake had basically just overlaid a second Dirk right inside of you. It was useful as hell, like going super saiyan times a dozen, doubled your senses and power in every direction. But it had also left your head pounding for three days, which hadn’t been helpful as you’d reconnected to your dear departed ancestor Bro through the vector of immeasurable voice recorders he’d left behind in a secret rebel base. 

Since then you’d tried a variety of different approached to your fraymotif. It turned out Jake could enhance your effectiveness in virtually any way he wished, and you were already so effective on your own you made quite the combo. In his hands you were a deadly ace, a loaded gun, the ultimate puppet or fancy santa. It was wonderful to feel the synergy between him and you--but you’d yet to find one that didn’t leave you feeling like you needed to take a nap for a year. 

“As a matter of fact,” Jake said. “If I get this right, I reckon you’ll have no unpleasant after effects at all!” He said. He pulled away from you and met you face to face as your eyebrows shot up. That was curious, not that you even minded. What had he thought up? You could all but feel the others drawing closer, also interested. It was legitimately pretty awesome figuring out what cool tricks all of you could do. 

You already missed the warmth of him. You really would have liked to go home as soon as possible. “Alright. What did you have in mind?” You asked. 

“Excellent! Alright, so, just hold your katana out, would you?” He asked. You lifted your sword, tight in your grip, and held it out for him horizontally. His brow furrowed. “No, that’s not quite right.” He said. He took your wrist and gingerly touched the blade, adjusting you so it pointed up into the sky at an angle. He turned and set himself along it’s length, placed it along his chest and let his chin drop close to the tip. Suddenly you were a little nervous--this thing was very sharp, and you didn’t want to hurt him. 

But Jake’s ideas were always a little nuts, and you’d learned to trust them, especially when they involved showing he trusted you. Usually those got big results. “I’ve been wanting to try this ever since we watched Utena,” he confessed, and you stifled a mutter. Of course this was just him using a situation to enable living out a fantasy. Typical Jake. But you were always along for the ride whenever he wanted to go on an adventure, and things always seemed to go invariably awesome. You believed in him, in the end, and now that he knew it he was turning into quite the intrepid leader. 

His lips pressed along the wide side of the cold metal. Your heart stood still in your chest, nothing existing except for your control over your hand, outstretched at full length. Dirk’s hands curled gingerly along the blade, caressing it almost as something white and holy lit up in his lips and between his shoulders. When his eyes opened they were bright, deep white that went inside him forever but you could still tell his pupils were looking backwards at you. 

White light spread from the place he’d kissed along the entire blade, and suddenly it seemed like Jake was glowing, nearly washing out anything a few feet past the two of you with misty white shimmering. Like snow, or an incredibly dense field of stars. He touched the sword gently, with incredible control as he lifted it and held it tight and square along his chest. 

His back was to you and there was an impression of doubling, as if Jake was suddenly himself many times at the same time. Like he was exploring every possibility and choosing multiples at once to play out. Everything happening so much, all at the same time. His back was to you and he was falling back into your arms, almost delicately waiting for you to catch him. He was sideways, perpendicular to you, and he chased the sword slowly with kisses as he pushed it down a downwards arc. He was staring right at you and letting the sword press along his chest and neck, lean off his shoulder as he took your back with his free hand and pressed your lips against his. 

Maybe that one was the one he chose because it felt the most real, but you knew well enough Jake didn’t need to choose at all. They were all real, all at once--every position, every sensation, every combination of gender and devotion and identity. Feminine, masculine, something entirely different--Jake used them like toggles. Jake was a god of possibility, and he contained multitudes. The constant was you knew every version of him kept you inside of his heart, and every part of him knew you belonged to him entirely. 

But still. The intimacy and the magic of Jake was hard to take for granted. Your sword absorbed the white he emanated and summoned from everywhere and came alive--burning white like a holy torch or a sunbeam made solid. The white dissolved as Jake pulled away just a smidge, not a glint of blood anywhere on him. 

He hadn’t gotten cut. Good thing, because this thing was ridiculously sharp. You could practically feel it splice apart atoms, it made a high, shimmery sound you could hardly even understand. He looked drained by the act somehow, but otherwise fine. You didn’t feel any different, though. 

Except that the sword had a weight to it it didn’t usually have. Not a literal weight--it felt almost too light in your hand, actually. Instead it felt like you could easily mess up with this kind of sharpness in tow, and your senses weren’t supernaturally boosted to adapt to the challenge at all. Someone could get easily hurt if you fucked up, you included. You could barely even see your hand, encased as it was in absurd holy light, providence of your best broyfriend’s Actual, Literal Divine Blessing. 

Not for the first time you felt a surreal sense of absurd fantasy. This was just too potent a mix of religious myth and high fantasy trappings and sci-fi existentialism to ignore. You got the distinct impression your life was a story of some kind, meant to amuse or delight some greater God. Something greater than Skaia or the Horrorterrors or Lord English. 

You stood there as you carefully wrapped your second hand around the grip of the Katana, pointed it squarely towards the white Skaian orb and away from your friends. Wondered if you were being fucked with, if your entire lives had all been for the sake of some invisible entity’s amusement. Maybe this was just paranoia, just your deep mistrust of the fact that you could actually be this happy and satisfied with yourself and your life. 

You decided it didn’t matter. As a matter of fact, if this WAS a story and your entire lives amounted to just a cosmic, multiversal joke, then you thought it was at least a good one. Jake always made your life feel too good to be real, like actual fantasy. But you thought it’d be fine to be fictional so long as Jake would still do stuff like randomly have a sexy magic dance with your sword to power it up. And look at you with those big sweet green eyes and kiss your face and stuff. Fuck, you were gay. 

Rose was staring, a bemused smirk playing on her lips. You were gonna pay for letting your poker face drop unless this worked. You looked down at 

Time to stop thinking. You took a deep breath, held the katana out, and lunged. 

You were sure you’d missed immediately--it’d felt like cutting air. Then the silent white brightness of Jake’s powers disappeared and you felt the immense burden of the sword go with it, and you looked up. 

The cut was enormous and clean and fucking beautiful. A thin, long diamond cut along the orb’s side. Your hands had swiveled to open it up at the bottom, gorge it like a pumpkin and let a smooth wall off white metal something roll into the dirt and grass on it’s side. A platform, cut perfectly to let you all walk up and in. 

Your head felt loose and drowsy, but from the release of pressure and the sensation of accomplishment--no magic wear and tear. God. You really loved how Jake made you feel like you could do anything. There’s no self-esteem boost quite like being believed in SO HARD by this guy. Rose clapped, genuinely happy for you--she could relate to satisfaction, after all. Dave whistled. John let out a long woooaaahh and stared straight at you, his head turning to stay on you as he floated on inside. Roxy darted down to ramble at Jake about how fucking cool he was. You smiled and followed John in--partly because there was no way to know if something dangerous was inside. 

Mostly because Jake was the hottest thing on the planet and if you tried to talk to him now you were going to end up getting him to ditch everyone and make you watch five movies tonight. You really were curious about what was inside.


End file.
